36: A Novel Read Online Free Page A

lights were low in the viewing room, but the stark execution chamber on the other side of the window was brightly lit.
    Robert Tracy, convicted murderer, lay strapped to a gurney.  His eyes were closed and he was barely conscious, the result of a sedative he had requested.  A display that monitored his vital signs was connected, his heart rate and blood pressure clearly visible.  IVs were already in place in each arm, the tubing snaking up to bags of saline.  Each was also connected to a large red tube that disappeared in the wall, out of sight of the witnesses.  The red line would introduce the lethal combination of drugs that would end Tracy’s life.
    Two guards and a doctor stood behind the gurney, the Warden to the side, near the glass.  A member of the clergy was noticeably absent, having been refused by the inmate.  After nearly a minute of silence, the Warden reached out and pushed a button that activated a speaker in the viewing room.  The speaker was connected to a microphone in the execution chamber and would allow the witnesses to hear what was being said.
    “Robert Hammond Tracy,” he intoned.  “Having been found guilty of the crime of capital murder, you have been sentenced to death by lethal injection.”
    The younger woman who had accompanied the attorney sobbed loudly as the words were spoken.  The elderly woman slowly put her arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.  Unable to hear what was transpiring, the Warden continued.
    “Before your sentence is carried out, you may say a few brief words.”
    The crying woman caught her breath and looked up.  Everyone’s attention was riveted onto the restrained prisoner.  There was a long pause before Tracy opened his eyes and lifted his head off the gurney.  The window was clear glass, but due to the difference in lighting between the two rooms all he could see was his own reflection.
    “I’m innocent,” he said in a drug slurred voice.
    He lay his head back and closed his eyes.  The woman began sobbing again.  After a brief pause, the Warden spoke.
    “Robert Hammond Tracy, by order of the Supreme Court of Arizona, your sentence shall now be carried out.”
    The Warden turned off the intercom and nodded to someone that could not be seen from the viewing room.  At first it seemed as if nothing was happening.  Then, the heart rate displayed on the monitor began to drop.  Slowly at first, just a few beats per minute, then it quickly declined.  Robert Hammond Tracy never moved, never indicated he felt anything amiss.  Ten minutes later the attending physician pronounced him dead.
     

4
     
    Six Weeks Later
     
    I woke up with a splitting headache.  The kind that feels like a splinter of molten steel is being driven into your temple.  What the hell was going on?  Was I in the infirmary?  Then it came flooding back.
    The final meal.  The uncomfortable visit by the Catholic Priest who I had sent on his way.  Then the small pill that had made me relax before being wheeled to the execution chamber.  The pinch on first one arm, then the other, as IVs were started.  The warden saying something, to which I think I responded, then darkness.  I was dead!
    With a sharp intake of breath, I tried to sit up.  Something was restricting my movement.  I couldn’t see, either.  Was this death?  But if I was dead, why could I feel my body and the restraints that were holding me down?  Why was I thirsty?  Why did my face itch?  And what the hell was that beeping sound?  Was I just not dead yet?  Was I still on the table in the execution chamber?  Oh fuck me!  Please just let it be over with.
    There was a sucking sound, like a door with a tight seal being opened, then a set of footsteps approached.  I jumped when someone lightly touched my shoulder.
    “What’s happening?  Where am I?”  I croaked, feeling my upper lip split open as it moved.
    “You’re safe,” a female voice said.  “Just lay still.  I’m going to put